Can't Stand the Heat
by Random Jelly Beans
Summary: She's just about the most annoying, obstinate, nit-picky, angry perfectionist of a person anyone can find... But damn, she sure can cook. ChasexAkari, Chase's POV
1. Prologue

"Very good. You're improving, Chase," the short, pink-haired woman nodded her approval at the bowl on the table. I let out a thankful sigh.

"Finally," I muttered to myself, taking the bowl from the woman and turning towards the kitchen. As I poured the remainder of the dish into a container, I glanced around the room. It was just the same as it had been for the last year I'd been here: same wood floors, same wood cabinets, same silvery sink, same tiny refrigerator…

"Chase, come here a moment."

I sighed quietly and fastened the lid on the container. After practically throwing the soup into the fridge, I went out of the kitchen and sat down at one of the tables, across from the short woman who'd called me.

"Yes, Yolanda?" I asked, trying to give her my full attention. She smiled softly—a rarity these days—and began to speak.

"You've been my protege for a little over a year now, and I have to say, you've greatly enhanced your skills as a chef." She leaned back in her chair, fixing her gaze fondly at the ceiling. I scratched the back of my head sheepishly, my fingers almost getting stuck into my chaotic peach hair.

"Um, thank you…?"

She looked back at me, still grinning. "I'm promoting you."

I raised my eyebrow, not fully understanding. What did she mean, 'promoting'? The only two chefs on this whole island were her and me, and the only place that specialized in food was here at the Sundae Inn. I couldn't become the head chef—that would mean replacing Yolanda. Where was there for me to go?

She must've noticed my confusion, since she began to explain. "I am going away for a few seasons with Elli to visit her grandmother in Flowerbud Village, and to help out at their bakery. That means I'm leaving _you _here, in my place."

I gaped at her, unable to really say anything. It took me a few seconds, but I managed to utter, "Um, thank you…"

She shook her head, still smiling. Goddess, that was really creeping me out. She never smiled when I was with her. She was always frowning, scowling, or she had her face pinched up in annoyance. I had assumed I wasn't the easiest person to work with, let alone teach, but I decided that if I was really _that _awful, then she'd have already kicked me out.

I looked up at her as she stood, stretching her arms over her head. "Ah… well, it's getting a little late. I don't think Hayden's going to open the bar tonight since Kathy's sick with the flu, so you should just head on home. Oh," she added as I stood and turned to leave, "I almost forgot. We hired another chef from the city to help you out, just in case you got a little… overwhelmed. She should be here tomorrow morning."

"Another chef? Wait—_what_?" I asked, almost tripping over one of the chair's legs. "You hired someone else?!"

"Relax," she waved her hand at me, closing her eyes, "just think of her as… as a sous chef. She's here to _help_ you. Not hurt you."

And with that, she went back into the kitchen, ending the conversation. I sighed, rather frustrated, and turned to leave _again_. I was just about halfway through the door when Yolanda's somewhat manly voice stopped me—again.

"I'm leaving as soon as she gets here, so why don't you be a polite young man and meet her here, as well as see me off?" Without waiting for a response, she continued, "Tomorrow morning at seven o'clock, here. Have a nice night, Chase."

Then I finally left, having to physically stop myself from slamming the door on my way out.

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**...This is... not Graire, as most of you perceptive readers have noticed. However, it is going to be pretty good, I hope, so... read? Review, too, please. And chapters won't be nearly this short - this is just the prologue, so I have something solid to start on. If you consider 700 words solid. Oh, the story isn't as dull and/or glum as the prologue is, either ;-;**

**Chase FTW. Unfortunately, since this is my first non-GrayxClaire fic, there are a few people out there who now have the right to slap me with an oar. Oh joy. REVIEW! Oh, please, please, please! :D**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter one! :O**

**Okay, it's a 3,000 word thing, with a very grumpy Chase. I think he's OOC! ;-;**

**Review replies for all who review next chapter, because it's far too late to write them now! D:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon or any of its characters.**

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I moved sluggishly on, the Sundae Inn now just a few meters away. It was still early enough that there was an almost bluish-gray fog looming over the small island, but late enough that I was, well, _late_.

I wasn't used to waking up so early in the morning, let alone leaving my house then. I'm sure most of you have had your rough mornings—so you can probably imagine how I felt today. After wriggling my clothing and apron on, clipping my hair back, and brushing my teeth—all in a semi-conscious state, I might add—I was finally able to leave for the Inn. Of course, I just _had_ to trip over a tree root near the lake, making me get my poor apron all muddy. I then had to go back and grab one of my _other_ aprons, avoid the root and the lake, and be at the Sundae Inn ten minutes ago.

By the time I was in front of the door, it was a quarter to eight. If Yolanda was angry with me for skipping work on that thunderstorm day back in summer, she'd be completely irate with me for being so late today.

I didn't really care.

I pushed open the door and had my mind totally set on just walking in like there was absolutely nothing wrong with me being late. I was expecting Yolanda to show up in front of me threateningly with her rolling pin, ready to dish out a few stern words. That's why I was completely stunned to find her cheerily waving me over to the kitchen, wearing the largest smile on her face I think I've ever seen.

I complied with her motion and walked into the kitchen. She was standing in front of the stove, with her back to me, speaking to someone. When she turned around, she stepped to the side, allowing me to see her converser.

She was a somewhat thin, brown-eyed girl; holding a large bag in her right hand and a wooden spoon in her left. She wasn't tall enough to surpass me in height, but still tall compared to most of the girls on the island, excluding Kathy. She had short brown hair that hugged her neck and flipped out on the bottom—a rather unusual style for around here. She was wearing dark brown pants and a relatively boring beige sweater. Overall, her outfit still seemed just a bit too formal for Waffle Island. Yolanda motioned to the woman and spoke brightly.

"This is Akari, the new chef. Akari," she turned to the girl, "this is Chase. I hope you two will get along for the next few seasons, because you'll be seeing an awful lot of each other."

She winked at Akari, probably thinking I couldn't see her, and I saw brunette roll her eyes. Well, at least she wasn't annoyingly cheerful as Maya—Yolanda's granddaughter—who lived here. Akari set down her bag and stiffly held out her hand.

"Hello," she said in a monotonous voice, her face not cracking even into the smallest smile. I took her hand and shook it twice before she dropped her hand back to her side. I didn't even have the chance to greet her back before Yolanda spoke again, this time in a hurried happiness.

"Well, my boat's just about to leave, so I'll have to go now. Have fun, but work hard! Chase, listen to Akari," she was already out the door by then, "See you in a year!"

With that, the door closed, leaving me gaping incredulously after her. Listen to Akari? A _year_? What the hell?!

"Alright. I'm not much for conversation, so I'll make this short: I work alone. All you _really_ need to do is not get in my way. I keep a very organized kitchen, and do not permit sloppiness. Stay near the front counter, and I'm sure everything will be just _peachy_."

I snapped around, my eyes fixed threateningly on Akari. She was now moving the utensils around on the counter, establishing that nothing more was to be said. Yeah, right.

"Excuse me? I don't think that's going to happen. I've been here for over a year. _You're _here to help _me_. You can't just stride right in and take over, expecting me to just 'stay out of your way.' Who the hell do you think you are?"

After she finished reorganizing the knife set, she turned around calmly—or was she just too irritated to speak?—and strode over to me. She raised one of her thin brown eyebrows and stared at me long and hard. I glared back down at her.

"My, my. I'm sure you've already been told this, but your looks are very misleading. Who would think that purple eyes plus… peach hair, is it?" she stopped for a moment, as if to let me answer. I knew better, however, so she just continued. "Purple eyes plus peach hair equals snippy, rude creep?"

"'Snippy rude creep?!'" I flared, fed up with this 'chef'. There was no way in hell I was working with her. It was now no longer safe in that kitchen: I'd officially lost my temper. "_I'm_ the snippy one?! _I'm_ the rude one?! Because _you're_ so incredibly civil, right? Are you _insane_?! How Yolanda could possibly see you fit to cook here, I do not know. Were you _dropped_ on your _head_ as a child?! Goddess, I can safely no one else on earth acts as _obnoxious_ as you, and I've only known you for ten _freaking_ minutes!"

I stopped, seeing her flinch ever so slightly. I'd hit a nerve.

"Shut the hell up." She muttered softly, her back now turned to me as she tried to move the pots around on the stove. I stood there for another few seconds, debating whether or not I should speak again, when suddenly she stopped what she was doing and slumped her shoulders in a defeated manner, still facing the stove. "Leave. _Now_."

My first thought was telling me to protest and refuel that argument we had just finished. But then… I thought maybe I _had_ been a little harsh. My eyes widened suddenly. Oh Goddess, what if she was crying?

If there's one thing I can't deal with, it's crying. The awkwardness… The emotional-ness… Then there was that whole thing with trying to get the person to stop crying. How are you supposed to do that? If you talk to them, they cry harder. If you touch their shoulder, they run away. If you hug them… well, they'll say you raped them and _then_ run away. And there's the occasional case that the consoler 'accidentally' gets punched in the face…

So, yeah, crying sucks.

"Are you…" I started, but couldn't get myself to finish. By the way Akari was standing—hands gripped tightly to the counter, wide stance, tense shoulders, head down—I could tell she wasn't in the mood to talk any more. I frowned and turned to leave, not even bothering to figure out what I was going to do instead of work. Akari said nothing as I left the Sundae Inn and went back down the path towards my house.

I tripped on the root again.

…

"Hey, Chase! What are you doing here? You've never visited before!" An overly-energetic voice called as I walked into the large building. I cringed. Luke. Why did I come to the carpenter's shop?

"Um, hi."

"Hi! So really, why are you here? Were you bored? Hey, aren't you supposed to be at the Sundae Inn around now? Did something happen?"

I blocked the blue-haired boy out after that, and I couldn't tell you for the life of me what he said after that. After I became aware of a long pause, I looked up to see him staring at me expectantly. I leaned against the wooden door and sighed.

"Uh… Sorry, but… What?" I asked, running my hand over my hair guiltily. He laughed, slapping my back with his hand in a friendly way, causing me to cough. I swear he didn't know his own strength, or he wouldn't have just bruised my back.

"Nevermind," he finally stopped laughing, "What's up?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing."

He looked at me quizzically. "You sure, man? You don't seem yourself today."

"Do you even know how I am normally?" I asked disdainfully, glaring at him. He laughed it off.

"Sure I do! You're a little less grumpy and sadistic usually," he said, putting his finger to his chin in thought and leaning back on a half-made table.

I sighed, knowing he was right. I wasn't normally this… cold. There was something about this time of year that bugged me, and the whole Yolanda-Akari thing was just adding on to my irritability. Those things, plus I wasn't really a morning person. The springtime never sat well with me… Everybody was always so happy with all the flowers and butterflies and sunshiny happiness… Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if I looked up and saw a unicorn fly by. Or would that be a Pegasus? …Whatever. It's all the same in my book.

Great, now I sound like some creepy emo teenager.

"Eh, Chase? You okay?" Luke waved his hand in front of my face. I turned towards him, snapped back into reality.

"Yeah. Hey, are you supposed to be putting so much weight on that table? It looks—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, the table Luke was leaning on started to creak, and then the sound of splitting wood could be heard echoing throughout the shop as the tabletop snapped in half. Luke fell to the ground, bringing the rest of the table with him. I couldn't help but laugh a little bit at him as he glanced around helplessly for a moment, but then, as if out of nowhere, a small piece of wood fell from the ceiling and landed right next to the boy, causing him to shriek in such a high-pitched voice that you'd think he was a girl. This in turn sent me practically into hysterics, and I doubled over, cackling insanely. Luke glared at me as he stood up, brushing the saw dust off his pants.

"Luke?! What was that?!"

Luke and I both froze at the sound of Dale's booming voice. I saw the apprentice glance worriedly at the broken table, then at the mess of dust on the floor, then at me. I frowned and hurriedly wished him luck as I dashed out the door.

Note to self: Pay attention to which shop you go into next time.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking back to the Maple Lake District. As I walked down the hill from the Ganache Mine District, I couldn't help but notice the sun already starting to set. How long had I been in the carpenter's shop? It couldn't have possibly been the seven hours the sun was leading me to believe it had been. That would be insanity.

I stopped for a moment in front of my house, thinking. Kathy was sick, so she wouldn't at the bar tonight. Hayden didn't open it yesterday, so he'd probably open it tonight, since he doesn't like staying closed for too long. That would mean Akari would have to take care of all the orders and the kitchen _alone_… Something even I couldn't do, especially on a Friday night such as this. It's her first night working here, too… Damn, she was going to have some trouble.

So, me being the gallant man I am, I decided to go help her.

I glanced at my watch: six thirty-five. Shrugging, I started down the path towards Waffle Town at an easy pace, not exactly excited to get back in the kitchen with that woman. I stopped for a moment in front of the Sundae Inn's doors, sighing as I tried to prepare myself for the remainder of the evening. I was walking into what I _knew_ to be the Kitchen of Hell, and willingly, at that.

Once inside, I didn't notice anything different from usual. The mayor was sitting at his usual table, Hayden was standing at his usual spot behind the bar, and Colleen was Maya was buzzing around like a bee, as usual. I hurried into the kitchen, trying to avoid the pink dress-clad girl at all costs. I was _not_ in the mood to have my ear talked off. As soon as I walked through the doorway and onto the tile flooring, I let out a sigh of relief.

I glanced upwards, hearing a quiet, frustrated groan. There was Akari, staring intently at a pot on the stove, stirring it vigorously. She tossed in a pinch of what I assumed to be paprika, and then smirked triumphantly at the mixture. I walked up behind her, peering into the pot.

"Whatcha got there?" I asked loudly right near her ear. She shrieked and jumped nearly three feet in the air, causing her spoon to fling some of the pot's contents into the air and onto my cheek. I scowled at her victorious smirk and wiped the light greenish goop off my face with my index finger. I eyed it, smelled it, then tasted it. My eyebrows immediately flew up in astonishment.

"What?" Akari asked, annoyed, turning back to stirring her concoction. I looked down into the pot again. She turned so she was in my way, so I went over to the other side of her. She sighed exasperatedly and snapped again, "_What_?"

"What're you cooking?" I nodded to the container. If it was what I was thinking…

"Potato zucchini soup," she said matter-of-factly, still mixing the liquid at a slower pace than before.

"Ah," I said, "just as I thought. But y'know, it could use a little more cinnamon."

She froze for a moment, and then continued stirring rather stiffly. "What do you mean? There's no cinnamon in there."

I smirked. "Yeah, there is. You can barely taste it, though, with the miniscule amount you put in. I have to give you some credit, though, for putting any in in the first place. Cinnamon is a risky spice, even in baked goods, so I commend you for trying it in the soup."

She blushed slightly—or was it just the heat from the stove?—and turned towards me, arms crossed. "How you knew there was a pinch of cinnamon in there, I'll never know, but if you so much as _think_ about telling anyone about it, so help me I'll hunt you down and barbeque you like the pig that you are."

I raised my eyebrows at her, choosing to ignore the pig comment. "Oh? A little defensive, are we? Is that your secret ingredient?" Her deadly glare told me she meant every word that she'd said, so I shrugged and rolled my eyes, speaking with mock seriousness. "Sure, I won't tell anyone, because I really care."

She immediately picked up my sarcasm and glowered at me. I sighed and went over to the order rack, to see what there was for me to cook. There was not much left that Little Miss Cinnamon hadn't already taken care of, but I found an unfilled order for simple spaghetti and eagerly set to work. Pulling the necessary ingredients out of the refrigerator and setting them on what free counter space there was left, I started cooking.

As I diced a few tomatoes for the sauce, I couldn't help but notice Akari keep glancing back at my work every few minutes. I started to mince the garlic, and she looked over her shoulder, biting her lip. I rinsed and patted some herbs dry, and she started fidgeting with her hands. I finally sighed and turned to her.

"What is it?!"

She turned and looked at me anxiously. "You're not doing it right!" she screamed.

"What?" I asked, confused. "I'm not doing _what_ right?"

She glanced around, her brow furrowed in a jittery helplessness. "E-everything!"

I put my hands up as if to say, 'what the hell are you talking about?' and she walked over to my half-made tomato sauce. She gently pushed me out of the way and began stirring and adding different spices and herbs at an alarming speed. I watched in… just… complete _shock_... as she frantically put together the remainder of my dish. She spooned the fresh sauce onto a plate of pasta and set it on the front counter before turning around and slumping against the wall, sighing and rubbing her temples with her forefingers.

It took me a moment to register what had just happened. She screamed at me… then pushed me away from my station… then started throwing random things into my recipe… then served it up…

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, my temper already lost. Wow, I needed to work on calming down a little more.

"Hm?" she glanced up at me, then back down to the floor. I motioned over to the stove exaggeratedly.

"You just had some sort of meltdown and shoved me away from my cooking!"

"Oh…" she frowned. I gaped disbelievingly at her.

"'_Oh'?_ That's it?! Just _'Oh'?!_"

She rolled her eyes at me and went back to the counter where she was cutting up some sort of fish for what I thought was going to be sashimi, judging by the way she'd cut the fish… Okay, _so_ not the time to be thinking about knife techniques, Chase.

"I told you to stay out of my way or at the front counter. No sloppiness means no mistakes, which makes a smooth-running kitchen… You get the idea, right? Good. Sorry for pushing you, but in all fairness, I warned you."

I stood gaping at the brunette in complete disbelief. She was serious about all that stuff she said that morning… She actually wanted me to back off and let her take my place.

Hah. Yeah right.

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**Bad ending. ^^;; Please review! You can even flame me for having Chase OOC! Oh, and did I put the genre for this fic set for Romance/Humor? Because i don't know if you noticed, but it seems kinda angsty to me... I'll probably end up having to change that later. But there will be humor... just... less? I dun know, lol.**

**Review, pretty, pretty, PRETTY please! All you fromt he last chapter who added this to your alerts, thank you, and please review! Even if all you say is "Cool."**

**^I've had a review like that once. And I enjoyed getting it. XD**

**Constructive critisism and all that is nice! C'mon! Throw me a deadpan statement. I can handle it. ...I think... XDDD Thanks for reading, and REVIEW! D: :D**


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